


Look Up At The Sky

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Death, Fluff and Angst, M/M, im hurt, its sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-16
Updated: 2016-09-16
Packaged: 2018-08-15 06:37:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8046043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Castiel gave up his grace, and there's no turning back.





	Look Up At The Sky

**Author's Note:**

> As always, im open to suggestions and ideas on what to prompt I should write about (I really need ideas.) if you any, you can message me on my [my tumblr!](http://c-stiels.tumblr.com)
> 
> \- I apologize for any grammatical errors. I do correct my own mistakes, and I sometimes miss a few.

Every negative emotion in the book hit Dean hard in the chest when he'd seen the knife harshly penetrate Castiel's tan skin, Sam running up behind the women wearing a wicked smile as she twists the knife in Castiel's gut, stabbing the God in the heart and watching her disintegrate into dust before falling to the floor to become nothing but a terrible, terrible memory.

He doesn't remember getting up and grabbing Castiel before the man hit the floor, doesn't remember that Sam has a dislocated shoulder and a set of broken ribs. It doesn't seem to matter right now, because the man he loves is dying. Fast.

He pushes against the wound, closing his eyes and swallows hard as he feels the warm, metallic smelling liquid make contact with his skin, run through his fingers, and down his wrist. He can't look at Cas. Not like this.

"Dean," He hears behind him, and he turns to look at his brother's broken and beat up face; a reminder that this is happening, that this is _real_. "Dean, he's not gonna make-"

"Shut it, Sam. Call someone." He snaps, tears building up in his eyes as he turns to look into Castiel's. They aren't the bright blue they seemed to be only an hour ago. Now, they're faded over with a midst of grey clouds, staring back up at Dean with almost as much emotion as he was feeling.

Castiel tried to speak, gurgling and coughing before blood spilled over his bottom lip, painting his chin and neck with a nasty red color. "Shh, Cas. We're getting help, okay? You're gonna be fine. We'll laugh at this later. But right now, man, please, You gotta stay awake, okay? Fight for me, just a little more time. A little longer."

It was wishful thinking, but fuck, God, _his father_ , cannot let Castiel die like this; Covered in his blood with Dean pushing on his bleeding stomach. He can't, he just can't. It doesn't feel right; Castiel isn't a hunter, no, he's not. He's an angel, grace or no grace, and if he's going to die, he deserves to go out with a beautiful white light enveloping his body and his wings leaving a mark on the world that screams _"I am and will always be."_ But like this? No. no way. This is how Sam and him were gonna go. Covered in scars and painted with blood, dirt covering their bodies.

But this is what Castiel signed up for, isn't? From the moment he raised Dean from hell. He signed up for a death that was nasty and all but peaceful. He signed for this when he made the biggest decision in his life and gave up his grace for Dean. To be with Dean, completely, fully, undeniable be with Dean. He signed up for it, and both brothers are paying the price for it.

"-his way." He hears Sam's voice cut into the thick moment, closer and clearer, and he feels his little brother kneel next to him, removing his hand from Cas' wound and replacing it with his own . He feels Castiel jump from the stronger and firmer pressure on it, and it sends a small spark of hope running up his spine.

"Come on, Cas. You can make it." Sam says, pushing slightly harder on the wound, blood already covering it completely. Dean swallows again and looks back at Cas' face, and finds that he's already being looked at by the previous angel.

He smiles sadly at Castiel, mouth shaking and he feels his face give off fear. He's not trying to hide it. Not here, no. If Cas dies, he deserves to see Dean like this: vulnerable and wet and honest.

"Dean." He hears, and he's surprised to find its Cas' voice, still deep and rough, but it holds an edge of desperation. It's a new kind, powerful. with purpose and finalized. He understands. He always seems to when it comes to Cas.

"Okay, yes, okay," he whispers, voice cracking and holding something extra, something unknown to Sam, and closes his eyes as more tears race down his cheeks. He grabs Castiel's flimsy hand, and grips it tight and hard, and Castiel gives a weak squeeze back, and realization fills Sam's features. They're saying goodbye.

"I love you so much, Cas." Dean says, voice wet and weak. He looks up at the sky, the clouds covering the sun from behind the abandoned building they had chased the stupid Monster to. He starts to feel claustrophobic, stiff and uncomfortable, when he notices it's Castiel's life drying on his body.

"You're one dumb son of a bitch, you know that?" He lets out a loud sound that sounds like a sob and a laugh, "thank you, Angel. For everything, fuck." He lets out another cry, pulling castiel against him in an attempt to keep him close, no matter how far away he feels like Cas is getting.

"Dean, he's not- _shit_ -he's not breathing." Sam finally speaks up, voice filled with panic. Dean's bones feel heavy and his chest feels tight. He's almost certain he's going to combust, especially when the thumping in his head gets more aggressive, but he feels Sams hand on his shoulder, and he remembers he has things to do. His brother is hurt, and Castiel's body is empty, no angelic soul being held by it, and he has to go. He has to go take his brother to the hospital, and then go give Castiel a truly angelic funeral; no fire included.

He has to keep going, though he wants nothing more than to lie next to Cas and die with him.

 


End file.
